Searching for a Sister
by Maira the Panda
Summary: The tale of Soryne Lightblade, blood knight, and her illegitimate half-sister, Alenei di Capernio-Lightblade. My summary for this sucks.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

"Listen up! Our assignment is to clear out the Wretched living in Sunsail Anchorage!" Master Gorinas yells from the prow of the ship. The two combined regiments- the Rabbits and the Tortoises- stand around on deck, listening to the man running the operation. I stand next to Tristan and Caelian.

"Sunstar, Hornstriker, Redblade, Gerrin, Starscreamer, you will be acting as lookouts. Farstrider Ferrymin, you will be in charge of aerial reconnaissance. Seastepper, Coilstrong..." Master Gorinas continues giving out orders.

"... Dawnjust, and Brazeblade will be taking the tower," he announces.

"Good luck," I say to Tristan- the Dawnjust named (my Dawnjust)- who stands next to me.

"Luck? Ha! I need no luck!" He replies sarcastically. Then he kisses my temple. "Thanks anyways." I laugh at my love.

"Larenis, Dawnglow, Farstep, Lightblade- You four will watch the ship," is what the Master ends with. I can't help but sigh.

"At least we're stuck on this boat together," Caelian- the mentioned Larenis- says to me quietly.

"True, very true... You've got the deck of cards, right?"

-----

I grunt as a Wretched jumps at me, knocking me down and my sword from my hand. A few yards away, Caelian blasts at one after another with Fireballs.

"Cae!" I yell over the din. The Wretched kneels on my chest, and I gasp for air.

"What's yours is mine..." it whispers hideously, grabbing at my neck- my arteries. I hit at it with the arm it isn't pinning down, and try to roll away. It seems like time is slowing down.

"And what's mine is, well, mine," it chuckles, clutching at my throat.

"Tristan..." I whisper as my vision starts to go dark. Then it lets go for a second, and I get a gasp of air, as weak as I am.

Light, think, Soryne! I fumble with the pouch at my hip, then throw a good handful of the powder in the Wretched's face. It stumbles back, falls over. Tristan- where the fel did he come out of?- puts his boot down on its chest and slits its throat. It thuds back against the deck, dark blood spilling slow and sticky.

Tristan drags me up by my hand, and catches me as I stumble. My legs feel like noodles.

"Light, Soryne. How long did it have a hold of you?" he asks.

"I... I dunno. Six, seven sec'n's?" I trip again.

"Stop trying to walk, silly. Come on." Tristan guides me down the steps to the hold. "You're lucky it didn't kill you. Seven or eight seconds is long enough with them."

"Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm," I agree. What am I agreeing to? My head feels light, and I'm dizzy, and my eyes are burning, burning. Tristan backs me up to a support beam, which I slide down to sit on the ground- floor- deck. Ugh.

"What're you two doing?" Caelian asks as she pounds down the steps.

"I'm helping Soryne, who just had a close encounter with a Wretched. I'm pretty sure Soryne's asleep," Tristan replies, rummaging through someone's bags. I think they're mine.

"Not 'sleep," I mumble, closing my eyes.

"Soryne." I jump when Tristan whispers in my ear. "Soryne, where do you keep your crystal?"

"No," I say, glaring at him, suddenly awake. "Don't need it, don't want it. I'll be fine."

"Soryne..." he grumbles.

"No. Just lemme sleep it off," I tell him.

"We're leaving soon. You want a hand to your stuff?" I offer my hand, but he grabs me and carries me the few steps over to my bags.

"You're odd," I comment when he puts me down.

"I know," he grins.

_((Aren't they cute?))_


	2. Chapter 1: To Sail the Seas of Life

_Chapter One_

"Soryne..."

Beside me, a Farstrider whimpers. His skin is grey, his pupils huge. His lynx echoes the sound. I rub its ear absentmindedly.

"Soryne, he needs crystal," Caelian Larenis whispers. I sigh. "Soryne, if he doesn't _get_ some, he's going to go Wretched, and then he'll _take_ it."

"Fine. Just shut up about it," I hiss back. Reaching into a cloth pouch at my hip, under my mail, I pull out a pair of softly glowing crystals. They look like chunks of rock sugar, like they grew from the earth. If only they did- they'd be so much easier to gather. Much easier than killing wyrms and ethereal beings, dragging home bags full of their dusty essence, distilling and melting and heating and boiling until the whole building smelled funny and the landlord would complain if you didn't pay him off with the finished product...

Caelian takes the crystals carefully. She forces one down the hunter's throat, and crunches the other one between her molars. The medic spits out the paste into her glove, then smears it across a gash in the man's abdomen. He thrashes a bit, then lays back, limp, eyes closed. His color is returning though, and he breathes normally. Yes, I prefer battle, but all Knights are trained in some first aid.

The wooden steps creak. A plate boot comes down on one, followed by another. I close my eyes and lean my head back on the hull of the ship. When I open them, Master Gorinas stands before me, as hairy as ever. I can understand why people call him Master Gorillas.

"Initiate Lightblade?" he demands as gruffly as usual.

"The one and only, sah," I reply sarcastically. I close my eyes again and throw in a half-hearted salute, but make no move to stand. Someone probably reported my crystal, wanting it themselves. I'm used to that kind of trouble by now. No one is unbribable, is the only thing I'll say.

"Get up, girl. You've a summons back to Silvermoon, straight away." I open my eyes and wobble to my feet. Sitting down on a boat is not the best way to keep sea legs.

"What for?" I ask as I gather my things. Backpack, netherweave pack, hip pouch, sword, boot dagger, shield, bracers, gloves... what was I forgetting? I grab my shin guards before I could forget them again.

"Family emergency. Meet me on deck," is the only thing the Master says. I turn away from him, listening to the clunks as he mounted the steps once more.

"Family emergency? I thought your mother was in Shatt," Caelian comments, using the common abbreviation for Shattrath City. I shake my head.

"She is. Must have come back, probably got in a fight if I know Quelama. Give him another one of these when he wakes up, and don't use it yourself," I order. I hand her a crystal. She makes a face as if offended by the insinuation she would use. I know her- I've helped her before, with crystal and after an experiment with thistle. She might if I didn't warn her. "See you later."


	3. Chapter 2: Dismissed

_Chapter Two_

I think I'm going to barf. Light, I hate warlock summons. And summoning from a boat to dry land is twice as worse. Summoning to before a group of important people is four times worse. And summoning from a boat to dry land in front of a group of important people is about eight times worse.

And who says I suck at math?

I kneel, partially out of respect, but mostly to stop my swaying and prevent a swoon. My sword is my steadfast companion, but right now it's mostly just steady, a fact for which I may be eternally grateful.

"Rise, Initiate Lightblade." Oh, no thank you sir, I would prefer to stay here where I'm less likely to fall over... That's what I should be saying, instead of teetering to my feet. "We received a message from a noble family, the Capernios, today at 0900 hours. It stated that they were involved in a family problem, and requested that you meet them tomorrow at 1000 hours. Do you understand?"

Noble family? Family problem? It's just me and Quelama- what did she cheat them out of now? "I understand, sir." Light, my head hurts. Turn off the sun, someone...

"Good. We expect you to be punctual and courteous. You are dismissed." Dismissed? Please, no. I want to complain, to ask for a guard circuit, an interrogation to do, anything, but I've saluted and walked off, managing not to wobble.

_Dismissed_... I roll the word and its consequences around in my head. _Dismissed_ means time alone. _Dismissed_ means no sleeping in the barracks._Dismissed_ means no duties. _Dismissed_ means... time to think.

I walk out of headquarters. The sun is bright in my eyes as I attempt to remember the way back to my scummy little flat I keep for when I'm_dismissed._ I thump on the door until it swings open- I can't find my keys and I don't want to look.

Ah, home sweet home, all 400 square feet of it. In one corner, my alchemy set is dusty. I haven't used it in a while. In the other corner is my bed, still messy from the last time I slept in it- probably a month or two ago. There isn't much else in the apartment. I strip out of my mail and place it carefully in a bag; I'll take it out to one of those all-night repair places so it will be ready in the morning. Yeah, it's still afternoon but repair takes time, and I don't have much.

I have to dig around to find clean clothes- clean _appropriate_ clothes. I find a pair of loose trousers, a white (mostly) shirt, and some soft boots. The trousers are almost too loose at the waist, so I belt them with a red ribbon I used to use for my hair. My hair...

I loosen the tie that holds my red hair up in a bun slowly, and it tumbles down around my shoulders. It's very long, but I don't know here I could have it cut without strange looks and whispered comments. I look in the long mirror that's attached to the door. I look kinda nice, except for my hair. Fel, my hair. I don't know why my hair is the way it is: it's been that way since my birth. I have a streak of black in my sandy red hair. It sets me apart from everyone who sees it. The people in my village used to think I was bad luck. Other kids teased me, et cetera, et cetera.

I give up and tie it back into a ponytail with a black ribbon. I always wear black, something black. Then I untie my hair. I pull the ribbon-belt from my pants, and sit down on my bed. While my head has stopped ringing, I have a headache and I'd kill for some sleep. So, sleep I shall.


	4. Chapter 3: Nightmare

_Chapter Three_

My dreams are horrible. I usually don't dream in the barracks, which is why I hate being _dismissed._ But when I don't, I have horrible dreams.

I dream-remember when my father sailed away for the last time. I stood on the pier and waved him off into the sunset. My mother stood behind me, trying to get me to come home. Then my memory changes. I go home, and when I wake up, the guards come and arrest me. They take me to the courthouse, and tell me that I'm charged with my father's murder.

'But I didn't kill my father! He drowned!' I cry.

'Ah-ha!' the prosecutor yells. 'How would you know that if you didn't kill him?'

And while I stand in the witness box, weeping, my mother stands at the back of the courtroom, dripping wet with saltwater, laughing and laughing and laughing...

I bolt awake, tears on my cheeks. My mother's laughter still echoes in my ears. By my clock, it's nine in the evening. Good. I retie my hair and my trousers, pull on my boots. I'm not sure where I'm headed, but I'm going somewhere.

I leave, only to turn around in the middle of the street and dash back to grab my mail. I drop it off at a little 24-hour armor repair shop. The little old troll behind the counter clucks at the damage- or maybe just the state of it- and gives me a ticket so I can pick it up in the morning. She promises me it'll be ready.

I wander through a darkening Silvermoon. Sure, it's dangerous, but I don't care. I never care anymore. I wish I could see Tristan, but he's still on the cursed boat. If I was the drinking type, I would go and get drunk. But I don't like alcohol. If I was the kind to take drugs- which, thank the Light, I'm not- I would go and buy some crystal or some crappy magic item. But I don't. What I do is I patrol, or I do an interrogation. Maybe I could go back and beg for something to do. I'm sure someone in the entire place owes me some favor.

I duck into a bar to avoid a trio of guards who look vaguely familiar. I'd rather not be noticed. I order a drink- some wine, I think. I end up drunk. How the fel did I get drunk from wine? I didn't drink that mush... Bah. I walk home, wi' some help, I ammit. Thank the Light I don't get hangovers unless I drink the really strong stuff...


	5. Chapter 4: The Capernios

_Chapter Four_

I love my body. I am so glad I don't get hungover from wine. I love my flat. The door is so accessible when kicking out people with hangovers who got a drunken offer of a place to sleep.

While last night is vaguely fuzzy, I'm pretty sure I did nothing publically stupid, unless stumbling home drunk counts. I don't think it does. It's... eight. I need to be at the Capernios' home by ten.

I change into a different shirt, but keep the pants and boots. They're clean. I buy a muffin and a small glass bottle of milk from some small store on my way to the repair place. I pick up my mail, then head home and change into my armor. It looks very nice; red and gold with my red hair- back in a bun now. By this time, it's nine-fifteen. I head over to headquarters.

One of the clerks- not the clerics, they're out on a training mission right now- gives me the address of the House Capernio, plus a little background. There are five Capernios- Lord Oranael, Lady Meliani, their adopted daughter Alenei, who goes by the surname _di_ Capernio (which apparently makes a difference), and two sons, Jorid and Oranael the Second. Oranael the Second is in Outland with Prince Kael'thas. Gossip says the family does not approve, as he ran away.

I thank the clerk and head over to the address provided. It's a nice house, more of a townhouse than an estate. The banner of House Capernio hangs over the door. It's a common red and gold background, but a green plant as the icon. Perhaps they are allied to the herbalists or inscriptors.

I knock on the door, and a servant opens the door.

"I'm Initiate Soryne Lightblade. The Capernios said they were involved in a family issue..." the last part comes out as a question. The servant nods.

"Right this way, Initiate Lightblade," he says, waving me in. I knock imaginary dirt off my boots, and then follow the man into the house. He leads me to a day room at the back of the house. Two large bay windows look out on a small courtyard and garden. A slim older woman, dark haired, sits on a cushion in the window. A young man stands behind her. He looks like her son. An older man is sitting in an armchair, angled to see both the garden and the door. His hair is going gray, but in a good sort of way. It makes him look distinguished, as opposed to just old.

The older man- Lord Oranael, I guess- stands when I come in. He walks over and shakes my hand.

"Initiate Lightblade, I'm glad you could come," he says. I'm not sure how to reply, but go with:

"Anything for family, my lord." Light, I'm a moron. I guess it's good enough, because he doesn't seem upset. Well, not any more upset than he looked when I came in.

"This is my wife, Meliani, and my son, Jorid," he says, indicating each. Lady Meliani rises and walks over to shake my hand. She's about my height, and is very pretty. Jorid stands apart, though, acknowledging me only with a curt nod.

"My lady. Sir." I address them both. I nod back at Jorid, and he sneers at me. He shoves past me and walks away. I glance after him, worried. "Was it something I said?"

"Oh, no. Jorid's just a bit upset," Lady Meliani tries to assure me. I don't really feel assured.

"If you'll excuse me being blunt, my lord, my lady, may I ask what the 'family emergency' is?" I ask. Lord Oranael sighs from his armchair, to which he has returned.

"It's our daughter, Alenei. Have you heard about her?" he asks.

"Yes, my lord. You adopted her from the Silvermoon Orphanage when she was a baby. She ran away from home twice..." I make a vague gesture with my hands. I'm sure there's more, but I don't pay much heed to gossip.

"It's good that you know about her. You see, she's your half-sister." Lady Meliani says.


	6. Chapter 5: Half Sister

_Chapter Five_

"What?" I take a step back. "I... believe you have more confused with someone else."

"Soryne Lightblade, rank Initiate of the Blood Knight Order, daughter of Quelama Lightblade and Eran Searinel, granddaughter of-"Oranael begins.

"I get it!" I snap, the first time I've yelled at a nobleborn.

"When I was... younger, I had an affair with your mother. She had a daughter. We agreed that Alenei should have a life better than that of an illegitimate daughter of a vendor. Quelama put Alenei in the Orphanage, and Mel and I adopted her." Lord Oranael explains.

"Oranael told me about the affair, and about Alenei, and I agreed to adopt her. I've forgiven my husband for a very long time," The lady adds.

"But Alenei has always been a problem child. She convinced the Farstriders to train her as a huntress. Also, as you said, she's run away from home twice," Oranael continues.

"The first time, she was stopped at the zeppelin in Undercity. But the second time, she got all the way to Durotar. And she brought home a tiger!" She looks like she doesn't know to laugh or cry. Oh, dear, please don't let there be a scene. I think Jorid would say I upset his mother and it's his right to execute me or something. "But this time is different."

"Alenei's always known she's adopted. But this year, we... told her about her heritage- that she was my daughter," Oranael pronounces.

"She locked herself in her room. We thought she was just hiding, but when we unlocked the door, she was gone. And so was that... cat of hers. At first, we thought she would come home when she was done sulking. But she didn't come back in a week, so we sent out search parties, quietly. A pair of seekers were searching the woods in Tirisfal Glades when she attacked them."

"_Attacked_ them?" I interrupt. I'm not sure I want to be affiliated with this little half-sister of mine.

"Not seriously, of course. Not the precious little illegitimate _my_ father conceived. Oh, no, she just maimed them," Jorid adds from the hallway behind me. I can _hear_ the sneer in his voice. No, Soryne, don't turn around and slap the smug little bastard, especially not for insulting the sister you've never really met...

I turn slowly and bow, like a man. "Sir..." I say in the same tone, before turning back to his parents. "If I may, what exactly are you asking of me?"

Lady Meliani sighs. "You're her sister. She wouldn't attack you. We're asking you to go and try to bring her back, if you can."

I nod, satisfied. "I will do that, my lady. Where was she last seen?"


	7. Chapter 6: Tristan

_Chapter Six- Tristan_

_You are gleeful as you slash and burn and ruin, and it makes my heart ache._

_I see the lives you ruin with your fire and your steel and your bone sword._

_I am not like you._

It's summer evening as we return to the barracks. The other recruits mill around, talking and joking and laughing. I ignore them as best as I can, even when Tristan tries to make me smile. I shrug him off and sprint toward quarters, a hundred yards away.

I change out of my mail in a hurry, slipping into civilian clothes and out of a side gate. If I looked back, I might have seen that Trist was the only one who glanced after me. Walking quietly in the shadows of overhanging buildings, I'm too busy with my own thoughts to pay heed to the talk behind me.

"Hey, Lightblade! Wait up!" Tristan calls. He must have been trying to leave without changing because that's followed by a bellow of "Where are you going, Dawnjust? Trying to walk off with the Order's property? Get back here!" The insults and orders continue faintly as Master-Champion Sunstriker drags Tristan back into the barracks.

Fumbling and dropping my keys more than a few times, I slam open the door to my tiny apartment. Unable to keep my emotions and feelings locked up any longer, I sit down on the edge of my bed and weep.

I'm not sure how long I cry. Perhaps only a few minutes pass before I hear a quiet knock. I look up with red eyes at Tristan, standing there in my doorframe.

"Hey," he says quietly.

"Hey," I reply, my voice cracking. "How'd you get in?"

My fellow blood knight walks in and sits next to me. "You left your door open," he whispers in my ear. I have to laugh, which turns into crying again. I'm sure Tristan's used to it by now, and he wraps his arm around me.

"They didn't do anything, Tristan! They were refugees! We spend so much time taking care of the problems in the city, we don't do anything about the causes!" I sob, leaning against him.

"Shh… I know. I know," he whispers into my hair.

Our company- the 19th, the Rabbits (so called because we are some of the newest and therefore the least dangerous)- had been sent out on a mission. We were to evict a group of squatters from the eastern ruins. The others had taken to it gleefully, not caring if they hurt or killed someone. But I knew these people, or at least their kind. They must have been turned away by the camps in Fairbreeze Village, or in Falconwing Square, or maybe even in Silvermoon. They were _refugees_.

"It's so wrong," I sniff. Tristan gives me a squeeze.

"I know, love. I'm sorry," he replies.

"I'll miss you while I'm gone. It's a pity you can't come," I whisper after a moment.

"Where are you going, anyways? Is this about that family emergency call you got a few days ago?" he asks. I laugh, and lean back on my bed. Tristan lies down next to me, and I explain the whole thing.

"Wow, a long-lost half-sister. I thought they only existed in myth and fable," Tristan comments when I'm done, gesturing grandly. I laugh again, and kiss his hand, then him.

"Silly," I mutter sleepily in his ear. He chuckles, and strokes my hair.

"Sleep," he whispers. "Sleep, Soryne."

"Tomorrow will be a new day," we say together. He always says that. Always…

When I wake up, early in the morning, Tristan is still lying next to me. He mumbles something incoherent when I roll out of bed. I can't help a little smile as I write him a short note.

_Tristan,_

_I have to go. I can't put this off any longer. I'm headed to Brill, to help Alenei. Please lock the door behind you. I'll be back in a week or so. I love you._

_Soryne_

I close the door softly, and head off towards the barracks to pick up my armor. Tomorrow will be a new day- but so will today.


	8. Chapter 7: Alenei

_Chapter Seven_

I step into the clearing. I'm due north of Brill, and the forest is dense and dark. It's malevolent and... drippy. I sidestep a trickle of water falling from one of the trees. Probably a gnomish spy, peeing at me. No, probably not.

I'm wearing my work mail- mismatched green and grey and brown, along with a brown shirt instead of my usual red one. My hair still shows against the forest scene, though.

"Alenei!" I call. "Alenei di Capernio! Come out, Alenei!"

There's a large rock outcropping on the far side of the clearing. An elven girl is suddenly standing on top of it. Her hair is the same shade as mine, minus the streak of black. It's short-cropped to her chin, and looks like it was done unprofessionally. It's dirty and clumped. Her face is covered in streaks of mud, and small cuts and slashes coat her arms and face. She wears a black leather harness over a dark grey shirt, leather leggings and high, dark boots. My half-sister wears no jewelry but a pendant around her neck, a glass teardrop. I know with a lurch of my gut that inside the glass floats a tiny silver sword.

"Well." She smirks. "Here I am." Alenei raises her bow and notches an arrow. "Get her, Saemèr!"

A tiger barrels out from behind the rock. I gesture at it, and it stops in its tracks before falling over, the golden bubble fading from around its muzzle.

"Saemèr!" Alenei cries, anguished. "You'll pay for that, blood knight," she spits.

I cry out in pain, my shoulder twisting away from the rest of my torso. I blink, slowly, and reach for the arrow. It's at an odd angle. I touch it and cry out again, wobbling and falling to my knees. She... shot me. My vision is strange, double and triple and soft and tunnel-vision...

"Saemèr," Alenei whispers beside me. "It's all right. I'll make her pay."

I swallow, blinking, lurching. I topple over to my side. It hurts. Light, it hurts, it hurts...

"I've been thinking..." she whispers in my ear. I try to turn my head towards her. She rolls me over to my back with a rough shove. I can feel the mud underneath me. I reach for my pocket with my good arm.

"Thinking about killing one of you, one of my parent's searchers..." I can hear her unsheathing one of the sabers she wore at her hips. It makes a strange noise... I can feel the charm.

"And you... you're the perfect example. A show of force. Attack me... and I'll kill you," she murmurs. She tugs at the neckline of my mail, exposing my throat. I tug at the chain the pendant is on.

"Wait," I whisper. I can feel her blade across my throat.

"For?"

"I am... Soryne... Lightblade," I say as loudly as I can. It's a sigh. "Sister..."

I hold up the charm as well as I can. But I drop it. The chain is so cold against my skin...

I close my eyes.


	9. Chapter 8, or, The Alternate Ending

_Chapter Eight_

"Sister..." she whispers. And she holds up the charm my father gave me when he told me of my parenthood.

But it's different. Mine is looks brand new, a tiny silver sword inside a glass teardrop. The one Soryne holds is old, the glass scratched. The silver looks more like it is iron.

I look back at her- Soryne, my half-sister, the one they told me about. Her eyes are closed, and she dropped the pendant. I check her pulse quickly. She's alive, just unconscious. Like Saemèr.

"I don't understand..." I whisper, but I know she can't hear me. I sheathe my blade, and drag her to the makeshift shelter Saemèr and I have been living out of. Then I drag over Saemèr, who is harder to manage.

Saemèr, I know, will be fine. From what I saw, she knocked him out from cutting off his air. But I don't know about Soryne... I shot her! Of course she's in danger! Oh, Light, what was I _thinking_?

I stand, kneel, sit, stand again. Saemèr growls and twitches, then opens his eyes. He growls at Soryne.

"No, Saemèr. She's good." He stands, sniffs her. Her breathing is even, but shallow. I have an idea. "Saemèr, stay. Guard her," I order. He sits in front of her.

I walk out of the shelter, then run full tilt towards Brill. I almost run over a Deathguard. "Where- the apothecary?" I pant, my Orcish broken from misuse and lack of practice.

"Sish vay," he mumbles, or maybe it's just the way he talks. He points off in one direction, and I take off. I get directions from various helpful citizens until I end up banging on the door I hope belongs to the apothecary.

"Whaat?" he croaks.

"There's a woman- in the forest- I think she's in shock- she needs your help- please hurry!" He gets the message, and gathers his things. I lead him back to Soryne, and we take her back into the village.

She's still unconscious as the apothecary treats her. He removes the arrow, cleans and binds her shoulder.

She's still unconscious when we take a cart to Undercity.

She awakes at the Orb to Silvermoon, pale and shaking. I carry her through the portal with the help of a mage, traveling to the zeppelin station and willing to go back and forth again. She collapses from the pain after we cross.

I don't know what to do, but the guards take us both to the hospital. The doctors take care of her, and my parents come. Jorid doesn't come. I don't care.

They try to get me to go home with them, but I refuse. Finally, I agree to go home to change from my dirty clothes. I fall asleep, though.

I wake in the hospital. My left arm is numb, but my shoulder aches dully. My armor is gone, and I've been changed into a white robe. Sitting beside me is a cleaner Alenei. Her face and hair have been washed, and her cuts dressed. It's a warm day, and she looks uncomfortable in a light brown dress patterned with green embroidery.

"Hello, Alenei," I say quietly, managing to keep my voice from cracking from misuse. She jumps. "You want to shoot me again? I still have one good shoulder."

Alenei grimaces at my joke. "Please don't. I'm very sorry, Initiate Lightblade," she tells me, sounding meek. I have to laugh.

"Who told you to say that? Your mother? My name is Soryne," I tell her.

"I'm Alenei," she responds.

"I know," I retort. She smiles a bit. "There we go!" I exult. She smiles wider. "Tell me about yourself," I suggest.

"You don't want to hear about me," she whispers.

"Trust me. I'm lying in a hospital bed with nothing to do and nothing to read. Since you're the reason I'm here, you at least owe me some entertainment," I tease. She scowls a bit at the gouge. "Hey- and you're my sister." I tell her softly. "You've got, what, a hundred years of life that I missed?"

"97," she corrects me quietly, but she starts to talk.

Her earliest memory is of playing in the garden with her brother, before he got mean. Apparently, he wasn't always nasty, but the loss of his younger brother messed him up. She was taught at home with her brothers by tutors. The first time she ran away, she was young and wanted to protest the fact that her family wanted her to run the household rather than being herself when she grew up. The second time, she went to Durotar and tamed her tiger, Saemèr. She convinced the Silvermoon Farstriders to train her as a huntress against her parents' will. She repeats exactly what she said to convince them to me, and my chest twists in sadness that I never knew this young girl while she grew. She said to them,_"I will bear the consequences of my actions."_

Alenei leaves as the sun tints my room golden-red with the sunset, but not before I harangue her into helping me to a chair by the window.

As the sun sets over the Northern Sea where my father and I once sailed, I think of family.

I think of the family I once had; my mother- who barely cared for me- my father- whom I loved but the sea loved more- and I, caught between two worlds.

I think of the family I have now; my mother- whom I left for the army and the Knights, and who left me for Outlands- Tristan, perhaps- the love of my life, who has sworn never to leave me- my sister- whom I have just discovered- and I.

I am still caught between two worlds. But as the sun sets, perhaps tomorrow will be different.

Perhaps tomorrow _will_be a new day.


End file.
